Shcherbatov: It would have to be now, at the least favorable moment possible! When revolutionary feeling is on the increase. Letters passed to me by the military censors blame the Tsar himself for many things. Whereas in spite of all that is happening at the front the Grand Duke has not lost his popularity, and has the goodwill of the Duma because of his attitude toward the social organizations!
—meaning Zemgor. And there was the rub. What if the Tsar took it into his head to curb Zemgor? Society’s reaction would be hostile. The people at large would be deeply disturbed by the removal of the Grand Duke. How could it be otherwise when there were photographs of him everywhere? And once he took over the Supreme Command, how would the Emperor be able to absent himself from the army to visit the capital? No Tsar had put himself at the head of the army since Peter the Great!
And if His Majesty leaves for the front I cannot vouch for the security of Tsarskoye Selo. There are hardly any soldiers there and police protection is inadequate. A handful of enterprising villains could put the garrison in a very difficult position. I find what the Emperor has said deeply disturbing.
Goremykin: I have to confirm what the War Minister has said. His Majesty forewarned me some days ago. Which is why I kept warning you to treat the subject of GHQ with caution.
Sazonov: How could you conceal this danger from your colleagues in the cabinet? The Emperor’s decision is disastrous!
Goremykin: I did not think that I could possibly divulge something which the Emperor had ordered me to keep secret. I speak of it only because the War Minister found it possible to violate a pledge of secrecy and divulge it without His Majesty’s permission. I am one of the old school and for me a command from the Highest is law. I have to tell you that nothing you can say will persuade the Emperor to refrain from taking the step he has in mind. Neither intrigue nor any other person’s influence has had anything to do with the decision in question. It was prompted by his perception of his duty as Tsar. I too asked him to postpone his decision until circumstances were more favorable. But the Emperor, while understanding perfectly the risk involved, will not change his mind. All we can do is bow to the will of our Tsar and give him our help.
Sazonov: There are occasions when it is the duty of a loyal subject to stand up to the Tsar. We must also take account of the fact that the dismissal of the Grand Duke will make an extremely unfavorable impression on our allies, who have faith in him. Nor can one conceal the fact that people abroad have little faith in the Tsar’s strength of character, and are afraid of the influences by which he is surrounded.
Krivoshein: It is entirely in keeping with the Tsar’s spiritual makeup and his mystical understanding of his royal calling. But this is an absolutely inappropriate moment. And an act of the greatest historical importance is put before the government as a fait accompli. The fate of Russia and the whole world is in the balance. We must protest, plead, insist, beg, do anything to dissuade His Majesty from this irrevocable step! The fate of the dynasty, and of the throne itself, is at stake! It is a blow to the monarchic principle, on which the whole strength and future of Russia depends! Ever since Khodynka and the Japanese campaign the people have regarded the Emperor as ill-starred, as luckless. Whereas the Grand Duke’s name is a slogan to which great hopes are attached. It takes especially strong nerves to endure all that is happening.
Shcherbatov: The Emperor’s decision will be attributed to the influence of the notorious Rasputin. There is already gossip about it in the State Duma, and I’m afraid that a public scandal may be the result.
Kharitonov even tried to scare them with the thought that the Grand Duke, highly strung, sensitive, and vain as he was, might put up some resistance from GHQ. Polivanov made a despairing gesture: anything could happen. The others incredulously dismissed it.
Bark: His Majesty’s decision will damage our credit. The Tsar taking command of the army will look like our last desperate throw.
Shakhovskoy: The whole Council of Ministers must ask for an audience and beg the Emperor to reconsider his decision.
They were all in a state of high excitement and only the superannuated Prime Minister, secure in his otherworldly wisdom, remained calm and detached. He had presided over that other government which a year ago had combined to dissuade the Tsar from assuming the Supreme Command.
Goremykin: I am against a collective démarche of that sort. You know the Emperor’s character, and what sort of impression such demonstrations make on him. Things are hard enough for the Emperor as it is, without us worrying him with our protests. I have done all I can to restrain him. But his decision is unshakable. I call on you to bow to His Imperial Majesty’s will, close ranks around him at this grave moment, and devote all your strength to our monarch.
But this revised and liberalized Council of Ministers was not likely to be impressed by a too solemn adjuration from its chairman: indeed, some of them did not pause to listen but went on eagerly discussing ways of talking the Tsar into changing his mind. Krivoshein looked at Goremykin sadly and wonderingly: the old man had been his candidate for the post, and for the past months he had done what was required, settled differences. This was the first time he had obstinately stuck to his guns and this was when Krivoshein regretted at last not taking the premiership himself. As things now were, the ministers, however little regard they had for their chairman, could not approach the Tsar collectively without him. They had to leave all pleas to the Tsar to Polivanov, who had been entrusted with the secret. They were all worked up, not to say exasperated: how could the Emperor make such a decision without consulting his government?
In fact, the Emperor had been preparing to make this decision for several months. He could never forgive himself for not taking command of the army in the field during the war with Japan. It was the Tsar’s duty to be with his troops in the hour of danger. At the very beginning of the present war the Emperor had been determined to assume the Supreme Command, but had been talked out of it by a cabal of indignant ministers. While his uncle Nikolasha, once his squadron commander in the hussars, had become a very prominent figure in the Russian army and was a natural choice to command it for the time being. He was accordingly made Commander in Chief, although the Empress was, even then, against his appointment. The Emperor had regretted ever since not assuming his natural role. His many visits to the fronts and his regimental reviews were so many attempts to unite with the army, even if it meant bypassing GHQ. He loved his army, and his role in it, and was jealous of Nikolasha. Now that disaster loomed at the front, Nikolai believed more firmly than ever that it was his sacred, his mystical duty to take command and conquer or perish together with his troops. (Moreover, exchanging his present existence for that of a soldier would deliver him from interviews with ministers, malicious Petersburg gossip, and all the problems and preoccupations of the home front.)
The Empress had approved his decision long ago and encouraged him in it. She had in the first autumn of the war begun to suspect that Nikolasha wanted to make use of his position as Supreme Commander to usurp the throne. She found confirmation of this in Nikolai Nikolaevich’s actions and demeanor. He did not report regularly to the Emperor on military matters. He summoned ministers to GHQ, bypassing the Emperor, to brief them and give instructions. The Emperor was frequently confronted with decisions taken at GHQ without prior consultation. Nikolai Nikolaevich took too great an interest in matters that concerned the state as a whole, rather than the armies in the field. (Underground postcards with pictures of Nikolai Nikolaevich captioned “Nikolai III” were an additional irritant.) We still have letters written by the Empress earnestly admonishing her absent husband. (In quoting them side by side with the public utterances of other persons we rely on the reader to make the necessary allowances. They too may have expressed themselves more harshly among friends.)
He is trying to play your part. No one has the right to behave as he does in the eyes of God and of men. He will do some great harm which you will find it difficult to undo. He under
stands so little about domestic affairs and about our country, but he overawes the ministers with his loud voice and gesticulations. Everybody is indignant to see ministers reporting to him. They say that the Emperor has been stripped of power. Our Friend and I were both struck by the fact that Nikolasha adopts your style in telegrams replying to provincial governors. Then again, it is Nikolasha’s fault and Witte’s that the Duma exists at all. Nikolasha is not at all clever, he’s stubborn, and he is led by others. His Montenegrin women egg him on. He has behaved improperly—toward your country, toward you, and toward your wife. And since he has gone against the Man sent by God his deeds cannot find favor with God and his opinions cannot be correct. A man who has himself betrayed the Man of God cannot find favor with God.
She goes on to recommend action as follows:
To hell with GHQ! No good can come from that quarter. The soldiers need you, not GHQ. Don’t look at things through Nikolasha’s eyes, make him look through yours. In the midst of general collapse unshakable authority is needed. Remember that you are Emperor, and that no other dares take so much upon himself, you have been on the throne a long time and have more experience than others. May God send you more faith in your own wisdom, so that you will not listen to them, but only to our Friend and your own soul. Never forget who you are, and that it is your duty to remain an autocratic Emperor. A good loud voice and a stern look can sometimes do wonders. Be more resolute and surer of yourself. They must remember better who you are.
So then his decision to remove Nikolai Nikolaevich and assume the Supreme Command—simultaneously thwarting the plot being hatched (or rather gossiped about) at GHQ to relegate the Empress to a convent—had gradually ripened during the spring and summer of 1915.
In those months the Emperor yielded to public indignation and replaced a number of ministers. Some of these changes were made with the Empress’s knowledge and consent. She considered all the dismissals justified. Thus, of Shcheglovitov, although he was very far to the right, she said:
I don’t like him in his present place. He ignores your orders and tears up petitions which he supposes to have come through our Friend.
She shared the Emperor’s unhappiness over the retirement of Sukhomlinov. But she had not been able to keep an eye on all the new ministerial appointments. Some of them had been suggested to the Emperor, and accepted, while he was away at GHQ—and it soon turned out that his nominees were unsatisfactory.
Forgive me, but I do not like your choice of War Minister. Is Polivanov the sort of man one can rely on? I would like to know all your reasons. Can he really have parted company with Guchkov? And isn’t he an enemy of our Friend? That always brings misfortune.
While Shcherbatov, promoted for no known reason from the remount service (perhaps because his brother was Nikolasha’s adjutant) was
a coward and a weakling. He gives the press too much freedom. He too is probably hostile to our Friend, and so to us.
But Samarin, in the role of Procurator of the Holy Synod, got the worst treatment of all:
His appointment reduces me to despair. He belongs to that nasty clique of sanctimonious humbugs, that gang of Muscovite bandits who have entangled us like a spider’s web. The plots against our Friend will start all over again, and everything will go badly. I have been unhappy ever since I heard of this appointment. Nikolasha suggested him specially, knowing that he would try to harm Grigori. He is stupid and insolent, and has talked to me impertinently. I sensed his hostility. He won’t be satisfied until he has got me, our Friend, and Anya into terrible trouble. At his first audience with you, tell him very firmly that you forbid any intrigue against our Friend and any talk against him. You are the head and the protector of the Church, and he tries to undermine you in the eyes of the Church, he is beginning to express doubts about your instructions. Samarin will fall into the pit he is digging for me. Russia does not share his opinions. We must send Samarin packing, the sooner the better. Anybody at all would be better than him … If you knew how many tears I have shed today, you would understand the enormous importance of this. It isn’t female nonsense, it is the simple truth.
And then again, with the composition of the government so dangerously altered …
Why must you join Nikolasha at GHQ and summon a meeting of your ministers there? They may take advantage of your soft heart and make you do things which you would not do if you were here. They’re afraid of me, so they come to you when you’re alone. They’re afraid of me because they know my cause is just.
But all admonitions and hesitations seemed to be over, and at the very worst moment, with Russia’s armies rolling back in retreat, the Emperor was assuming the burden of the Supreme Command. On 22 August he sent his trusty War Minister, Polivanov (ignorant of his real feelings), to GHQ, to inform Nikolasha tactfully and confidentially of his decision and to settle the procedure for handing over command. The Grand Duke was offered the viceroyalty of the Caucasus in place of Vorontsov-Dashkov.
For the Grand Duke, resignation at a time of unrelieved failure was like an open confession of incompetence. But he accepted the blow, did not rebel, and indeed took it as an act of grace that he was not retired completely but sent to command the Caucasus: the one thing he earnestly begged for was that he should be allowed to take the precious Yanushkevich with him. Yanushkevich himself and the other top brass were desperately disappointed, and for a few weeks GHQ was more or less on strike, neglecting its work and the supervision of the retreating army.
After all this the Emperor said in answer to the Grand Duke that the change of command would not take place all that quickly, but would be a matter of weeks.
Meanwhile towns were surrendered one after another. German artillery salutes greeted the surrender of Kovno on 18 August (General Grigoriev, the commander of that fortress, had fled) and of Grodno and Brest-Litovsk on the 28th. Many people could not believe that such a reverse was not the result of treason. Excited workers at the Kolomna and some other factories accused their management of deferring to German interests and refusing to step up production. The unrest threatened to become violent. The workers were prepared to send a deputation, not to the government, which everybody had been told over and over again counted for nothing, but to the Duma or to GHQ. The ministers hastily asked Rodzyanko (who loved doing just that) not to receive these deputations.
Goremykin: The president of the State Duma is in such a state of excitement that it is useless talking to him. The Minister of the Interior and the Minister of War must take all necessary steps to prevent ugly scenes. We know what peaceful deputations can lead to.
Shakhovskoy: The atmosphere in factories is extremely tense. The workers are looking everywhere for treason, for treachery, for sabotage on behalf of the Germans, they’re obsessed with the search for someone to blame for our failures in the field.
Shcherbatov: Revolutionary agitators are taking advantage of the workers’ feelings and aggravating the indignation of the masses about the shell shortage. That is the most fashionable question of all, in the Duma, in society at large, in the press. It provides fertile soil for disorders. It is very important to some people to bring the crowd out on the street by whatever means.
Over and over again they laboriously debated ways of blocking the Emperor’s decision before it was made official.
Samarin: I was in Moscow and could not attend the last meetings. God grant that I am mistaken, but I expect the change of Supreme Commander to have dire consequences. The removal of the Grand Duke and the assumption of command by the Emperor is not just a spark but a whole lighted torch thrown into a powder magazine. Revolutionary agitators are working tirelessly to undermine by all possible means the remnants of faith in Russia’s fundamental institutions. And then like a thunderclap comes the news that the one person on whom all hopes of victory are pinned is dismissed. At the very beginning of his reign the people formed the opinion that the Tsar is dogged by misfortune in all he undertakes. I am well acquainted with several parts of the co
untry, and especially with Moscow, and I assure you that the news will be greeted as a major national disaster. We must implore the Emperor on our knees not to destroy his throne and Russia. Can the Tsar’s closest servants not get him to listen to them? If not, how can they conduct the business of state?
Goremykin did not lose his nonchalant poise:
This discussion could take us to the point of no return.
But it came to the ministers’ ears that the Emperor, on assuming the title of Supreme Commander, would establish his headquarters in Petrograd, so that it would be near at hand, and not really like GHQ at all, while General Ruzsky, who was apparently on the very best of terms with General Alekseev, would be in complete control at the front. This was at once felt to be an improvement. It had substantial advantages—Yanushkevich would be out of things, GHQ would be in close proximity to the government, and perhaps, even, the unification of civil and military authority might now be possible. Or would this proximity lead to still greater confusion?
Krivoshein, a masterly drafter of businesslike memoranda, suggested ways of making the change of command—if it was irrevocably decided—understandable to the people and easier for them to accept. They should ask the Emperor to express his sovereign will in the form of a “most gracious rescript” addressed to the Grand Duke, declaring that the Tsar would not wait for the hour of victory to share their danger with his troops, that he was ready to perish fighting the foe but not to fail in his duty. And saying how highly he esteemed the Grand Duke. Krivoshein was already at work drafting the statement. A rescript of that sort would smooth down many awkward corners, and the Grand Duke would not feel insulted by his displacement.
Sazonov undertook to lay this idea before the Tsar at his next audience. (Only Samarin persisted in arguing that what they needed was not a rescript, but to dissuade the Emperor.) The Emperor approved, and asked them to present a draft as soon as possible.
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